


One Week

by PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, eating breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21656359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart/pseuds/PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart
Summary: Rupert and Amir have one week to get things right before the first joint kingdom winter holiday celebration. Not just for their people, but also for each other.
Relationships: Prince Amir/Prince Rupert (Two Princes Podcast), Rumir - Relationship
Comments: 22
Kudos: 156





	1. The Greatest Gift

**Author's Note:**

> The Two Princes talk about gifts over breakfast. Sappiness ensues.
> 
> For #RumirWeek Day 1: Gifts

What do you get for the prince who has, and is, everything? This question loomed large on Rupert’s mind. It would be their first Yule together. The conversation between them at breakfast a week before was also still on Rupert’s mind. 

They’d taken breakfast privately in their own dining room. Their mothers were busy as ever getting all the little details down and so the two princes were by themselves for a change. As with any breakfast, there was an urgent sense to enjoy the quiet time together before their duties called them away. They sat side by side at the small family table, holding hands and leaning against each other as they ate. 

“What do you want for Yule?” Rupert asked as he pushed his pancakes around his plate. 

Amir shrugged. “My mother never made much of our midwinter holiday. Yalda night just meant staying up all night, listening to old stories and poems and eating nuts and pomegranate. All my ‘gifts’ were purely functional. New armor, swords, arrows, or whatever I was studying at the time.” 

Rupert shook his head as he set his fork down. “Remind me to not leave your mother in charge of parties. Although staying up all night is a lot of fun. So, you’ve never had a gift that was just fun?” 

Amir held his fork against his lower lip as he thought about it. “Well, there was the year where mother got me a set of camping gear.” 

Rupert turned to look at Amir. “Okay, and then did she have you survive out in the wild for a week to prepare you for camping in an evil forest?” 

“It was only three nights. And I was twelve so it worked out. And it doesn’t get that cold around my mother’s castle, even in winter,” Amir said, trying to justify it all. Amir slumped his shoulders as Rupert shook his head and chuckled. 

“Alright. So I just need to get you something fun, not functional,” Rupert decided. He picked his fork back up and started in earnest on his pancakes. 

Amir set his fork down and wiped his mouth. “Why do you have to get me anything?” 

Rupert paused with his fork midway to his mouth. “What, do you not want to have to get me anything? I mean, you don’t have to. If it’s not your tradition, well, I could just...” 

Amir shook his head. “No! I don’t mind getting you something. I just don’t feel the need to have to get something in return.” 

Rupert set his fork down and reached for Amir’s arm. “Amir, it’s okay. Everyone likes getting gifts. You don’t have to deny yourself something just so you look cool or more like a prince or whatever.” 

Amir leaned away. “It’s not that.” 

Rupert clenched his fist and set it down on the table. “Then what is it, Amir?” 

Amir looked back and folded his arms on the table for a moment. Finally, he bit his lower lip and reached out one hand to cover Rupert’s fist. “I-I don’t know what to give you.” 

Rupert snorted. “That’s why we’re talking about it now.” 

Amir drew his hand back again. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose? Aren’t gifts supposed to be a surprise? If I talk to you about what you want, then you’ll know what you’re going to get!” 

Rupert frowned and took another bite of pancake, making sure to nab a blackberry on the end of the fork. As he savored one of his favorite fruits, he looked back at Amir and swallowed. “You’re right. We already know what each other likes. Sorry I brought it up.” 

Amir cast his eyes down, biting the inside of his cheek until it hurt. He looked up and reached over. Rupert opened his hand, palm up so that their fingers interlaced. “The greatest gift I have is your love, Rupert. Your heart completes mine, like two pieces of a puzzle. It just...Fitz.” 

Rupert pulled his hand away, laughing as he swatted at his shoulder. “You’re a terrible sap and an even worse joker.” Returning to his pancakes, Rupert took a bigger bite than he thought and some blackberry juice trickled down his chin. 

Leaning in, Amir took hold of his chin before he could wipe it away. “I am and you know what?” 

As Amir’s thumb wiped away the juice, it trailed along Rupert’s lips. Rupert blinked quickly and his breath hitched. Clearing his throat, he finally found his voice. “Uh, what?” 

“You love it.”


	2. Piece of Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Princes vs Sooo much cake. Rupert tries to call it early, but Amir is determined to be fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For #RumirWeek Day 2: Cake

With six days to go until the combined kingdom’s winter holiday, Rupert and Amir found themselves face to face with a fondant-laced problem. Bakers from both sides of the Heartland stood before them in the grand banquet hall. Each one of these confectionary geniuses brought their signature slices that ran the gamut of flavors and techniques. It was up to the two princes to choose their favorites for the feast. 

Gulping a breath, Rupert turned to his fellow prince and shrugged. “Can’t we just have them all?” 

Amir laughed, his eyes a little too wide at the spread before them. “I asked my mother that. Apparently, they already all are approved for the feast.” 

Rupert slapped his forehead and groaned. “Then why am I here and why did we skip breakfast?” 

Throwing an arm across his shoulders, Amir steered them toward the closest cake. “Because we get to choose which one goes at the head table.” 

“Only one at the head table?” Rupert asked, eyes scanning the wide array before them. 

Sighing, Amir nodded. “Only one.” 

Looking down, Rupert snatched a piece before anyone said anything. The baker’s expression was priceless; her eyebrows were raised, but she couldn’t help but smile at the obvious delight on Rupert’s face as he chewed. 

Laughing, Amir took a bit for himself. “I admire your courage, Labneh. I believe Queen Lavinia was quite set on cake, but I wouldn’t mind baklava.” 

Labneh bowed her head graciously. “I know my princes’ love for my baklava.” 

Rupert reached for another, but Amir stopped him. Whining, Rupert turned to Amir with big puppy-dog eyes. “She even put a chocolate swirl on top, Amiiiir.” 

“Pace yourself, prince of my heart. And quit the begging. If it doesn’t work for your dog and dragon, it won’t work for you,” Amir chastened. 

Lord Chamberlain seemed to appear out of thin air next to Rupert. “Would it be favoritism to pick one of the Royal Baker’s creations? Although, I will admit, these are delicious.” He took the piece Rupert reached for and nodded his approval as he ate it. Rupert folded his arms, frowning at the old man. 

“There are plenty of other options and why wouldn’t we be free to choose our own Royal Baker? It’s why we have one at all! And Labneh was gracious enough to take Queen Lavinia’s open challenge idea and run with it,” Amir said with a shrug. “Besides, even if it doesn’t grace the head table, you know Rupert and my mother would clear a tray before—Rupert!” 

Fingers already in his mouth, Rupert blushed. “It was the smallest one!” He protested feebly. 

Rolling his eyes, Amir led his not-at-all-sorry fiancé away, with a grateful nod to Labneh. Chamberlain trailed behind. “What part of we have over a dozen desserts to try did you not get?” Amir asked. 

Brushing away Amir’s pushy hands, Rupert took one look at the next dessert and reached again. Amir was close enough to stop him this time. “Please, explain your dessert before my dear prince devours it.” 

“I wasn’t gonna--” Rupert started, but Amir hushed him. 

The baker’s face brightened as he spoke. “It’s a blackberry--” 

“I want this one,” Rupert announced. “This one gets my vote.” 

Amir dropped his face into his hands as Rupert got his hands on a small slice of blackberry cake with a lemon soak, iced and wrapped in a marshmallow fondant. Noting with some amusement that at least Rupert used a fork this time, Amir took a small plate for himself with his own sample slice. 

It was meltingly moist without being overbearingly sweet. The lemon left a lightly tangy aftertaste. What hit his palate the most was the strong flavor of the blackberries. They were fully ripe and absolutely lovely. Given his love’s predilection for berries, it was easy to see why Rupert enjoyed it so much. 

Finally, Amir opened his eyes and nodded to the baker approvingly. “We still have plenty more cakes to try, Rupert.” 

Rupert sighed, but reached his hand out to Amir. As they joined hands, Amir couldn’t help but smile. For all his impulsiveness and disregard for propriety, Amir loved Rupert’s affection at just about any time. “All right, I suppose if we must torture ourselves, there are worse things than tasting the best cakes in all our kingdom.” 

When the taste test was over, the blackberry cake held the top spot. Rupert managed to work Labneh’s baklava into the spread at the head table as well by saying that it wasn’t technically cake. 

Once they were back in their suite of rooms, Amir and Rupert moaned. From his position on the bed, spread-eagled, Rupert groaned again. “Too. Much. Cake.” 

Over on the couch, Amir’s feet dangled over the edge as he moaned his agreement. “I think the guy with the triple chocolate cake was trying to kill us. I need to tell Joan to investigate him for attempted murder.” 

Rupert covered his face with his hands. “Don’t mention chocolate cake to me ever again. It was sooo rich I felt my blood turning into syrup. Now do you see why I wanted to call a winner early?”

Amir wiped sweat from his brow, mildly concerned that the sweat smelled like vanilla. "I've never regretted my sense of fairness so much before." 

As they lay panting and moaning in decadent distress, a knock at the door preceded Queen Lavinia’s entrance. “Well, there’s a sight. At least I came in before either of you could take your pants off.” 

“Ugh, too much work,” Amir groaned. 

“Did neither of you consider maybe eating less of each cake?” Lavinia asked, her arms folded across her chest. “Or maybe just one piece of baklava?” 

Rupert could hear that the last comment was directed at him. He didn’t even have to look at his mother to see the expression on her face. “I regret nothing. If Amir and I die tonight, we’ll have gone in the best way possible.” 

Lavinia pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers and sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect you both to be able to handle a wine-tasting tomorrow?” 

“Depends,” Rupert began, propping his head up to see his mother’s reaction. “How drunk are we expected to get.” At Lavinia’s abrupt exit, both boys chuckled before groaning at how the movement disturbed their aching stomachs.


	3. Something of Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With some free time (for once) Amir turns to write a poem, while Rupert plays sweet music in the background. Which is sweeter, words or music or the softness of one's hands in the hold of another?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For #RumirWeek Day 3: Music

Without a wine-tasting in their afternoon schedule, Amir and Rupert found themselves in the possession of that rarest of commodities; free time. After lunch, the boys agreed to do their own things in separate rooms. As much as they enjoyed each other’s company, having private time was enjoyable as well. Amir sat at his desk and cleared away anything official looking. Rupert sat in the window-seat of his room and began tuning his much-neglected lute. 

As soft notes began filtering through the open doors between them, Amir settled into a creative mood. A fresh sheet of parchment waited for his pen as he nibbled the feather tip in concentration. At length, Amir set pen to parchment and began to craft a poem. The time slipped by as Amir worked on his verses. Rupert’s musical accompaniment brought the emotions up inside him that Amir needed to find the right words. 

Prince and partner, foe, now friend   
Your love saved all and curse, did end   
Friend to dragons, fiend to waspkind,   
Your blade is as sharp as your mind 

From his room, Rupert called through the suite. “Hey Amir, if I find you working on official Royal Family stuff again, I’ll have Porridge and Fitzroy destroy your desk again.!” 

Amir bit his pen at the thought. It had taken days to get the smell of scorched wood and parchment out of the suite. “I’m being good, honey. Just writing a silly love poem about you.” 

At the sound of footsteps, Amir covered his work with another spare sheet. “If you come in here while I’m working on it, I’ll feed it to the fireplace!” He threatened. 

The footsteps stopped, although Amir could hear that Rupert was very close to the door. “Nooo! Okay, fine. Be that way. I’ll write my own poem about you. What rhymes with ‘jerk?’” 

“Work. As in ‘your silly threats won’t work on me,’” he replied, chuckling as Rupert stomped away. 

“Can I read it when you’re done, please?” Rupert asked. 

“I thought I was a jerk?” Amir replied. 

“I mean, you kinda are, but you know I love you!” 

“Keep playing and I’ll let you know when I’m done,” Amir said, sighing. Rupert didn’t say anything. His reply was that the music resumed. Amir settled down and got back into his creative mood. 

A few verses later, Amir realized that Rupert actually hadn’t played for so long as far as he could remember. “Rupert!” Amir called. 

The music stopped and he heard his musical muse return to the other side of the door. “Are you done yet?” 

“Yes, come in.” As Rupert entered, Amir realized Rupert had both hands behind his back. “Rupert, you didn’t have to keep playing for so long. I bet your fingers are skinned to the bone.” 

Rupert’s expression gave nothing away. To the untrained eye, Rupert looked unperturbed. Amir could see the tension in his arms and forehead, though. “I’m fine,” Rupert said dismissively, waving a hand. The fingertips seemed fine, but Amir deduced it was his strumming hand. 

“Let me see your other hand,” Amir ordered. 

Rupert looked directly at the poem. “Let me see what you wrote about me.” 

“Rupert,” Amir started. 

“You promised,” Rupert replied. Amir could see by the set of his regal jawline that Rupert wasn’t about to cooperate. 

Amir handed over the sheet. Rupert took it in his uninjured hand. As Rupert read, Amir went to their shared bathroom and got a jar of salve. When he returned, he saw Rupert sitting at his desk, the sheet still in one hand as tears streamed down his face. 

“Hand. Now,” Amir ordered. Rupert offered up his bruised and bleeding fingers. Amir hissed at the sight and got to work with the salve. “Rupert, why did you...” 

“I just got lost in the music. I didn’t realize I’d been playing so long until you called me,” Rupert said. “Why did you write such a beautiful poem?” 

As he held his love’s hand in his own, Amir bent over and kissed his palm. “Because you’re beautiful.” He wrapped up Rupert’s fingers individually to keep them from getting infected. When he finished, he looked into his love’s eyes. Rupert’s eyes were still a bit watery, but a smile was firmly in place and lit up his entire face. “I don’t think my words can ever do you justice, prince of my heart.” 

“I think you speak better when you hold me like this anyway. I can see it in your eyes,” Rupert leaned in, pulling Amir down into a warm embrace and even warmer kiss.


	4. Model of a Modern Stage Professional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert sneaks some snacks out of the kitchen late at night. Will Amir’s warnings of strange dreams come true?

Stealing a tray of baklava and blackberries was surprisingly easy, even for a prince. If he’d had a hand free, he would’ve patted himself on the back. After consuming the treat tray, he’d definitely have to have a word with Sir Joan about security around the kitchens. It wouldn’t do if just anyone were to get into the food, even from within the castle. He wasn’t quite home free yet, though. Due to their living arrangements, he shared a suite of rooms with a certain prince and it would be a disaster were he to be caught by…

“Amir!” Rupert exclaimed as the door to Amir’s room popped open. “Uh, I can explain.”

With one hand massaging his forehead, Amir crooked a finger Rupert’s way and gestured the other prince in. Allowing his shoulders to say, Rupert complied. 

As he closed the door behind them, Amir sighed. “I’m not gonna tell you off for stealing food when you could just ask a servant. Whatever thrill you think you need to get from stealing, well, that’s your business.”

Rupert let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Ah, well, thank you and…”

Amir nicked some treats from the tray. “What I am gonna shame you on is sneaking without sharing. And you know, eating this all before bed is going to give you nightmares.”

He placed a hand on his chest and gasped dramatically. “Ugh, I was totally gonna..”

“Don’t lie,” Amir said. 

“Not share. Okay fine. But! I am not a child. I won’t have any nightmares just from a little late night snacking,” Rupert protested, hand moving from chest to hip. 

Shaking his head, Amir pointed to the door between their rooms. “Go. You’re not getting crumbs on my bed again.”

“That was one time and I shared then! Besides your sheets are nicer,” Rupert whined. 

Holding his pointing finger firmly, Amir shook his head. “Of course they are. They’re Eastern,” Amir couldn’t help but smile a little. “All the more reason not to ruin them with blackberry juice and flaky filo crumbs.”

Rupert turned to leave, only for Amir to snatch one more piece of baklava. Putting some more speed in his stride, Rupert growled his disapproval. As he kicked the door closed behind him, he could hear Amir laughing. 

It took a depressingly short amount of time to inhale his treat tray but at the end he felt more than satisfied. Glancing over as he lay spread eagled on the bed, he saw one last untouched blackberry. “Well, one more couldn’t hurt.”

***

Rupert groaned, his head fit to burst as he sat up and took a drink from his bedside water bottle. The world swirled around him, but he managed to keep his balance. Suddenly, a horrible sound broke through the quiet morning air. He groaned; he hated it when he woke up before his alarm, even by a minute. Slapping his alarm clock, he cracked open one eye to check the time and nearly threw up. 

He was hung over. He was also going to be late if he didn’t start moving. 

“That’s the last time I let Amir ‘congratulate’ me on holding my first rehearsal,” Rupert said to himself. A low whine and a lick to his hand told him Fitzroy was awake and needed to be let out. 

Whatever changed in his life, at least he had his morning routine. Even hungover with more than his fair share of nausea, he could start his keurig, let Fitzroy out on the side yard, handle his bathroom business and start breakfast (toast or toaster waffles). As he watched Fitzroy sniff around the same way he did every morning, Rupert buttered his toast and grabbed a banana. Amir would’ve had the pain pills out by now but Rupert was, to quote himself, ‘a special kind of stupid.’ He’d be nursing this headache half the day until it either went away or either Amir or Cecily forced him to take something for it. 

He grabbed his gray cable knit and slipped it on. A shower would’ve been amazing, but he settled on using the cologne Amir got him. There was a change of clothes in his locker at the rehearsal space for these occasions. Amir would likely kick him into the showers by lunch. If Joan didn’t first. 

The drive to the rehearsal space was quick. He still felt all kinds of feelings when he pulled into the Director’s Reserved parking space. The other creative heads all parked in the back for easier workshop access. He could hear Joan hammering something. 

Walking in, he could see the usual early bird crew strewn across the black box audience risers. Cecily chatted with Amir while scrolling on her phone. She stopped every once in a while to point something out that she wanted to add to the set. Amir was the only one standing, but he bent over now and then to stretch. Two actors were already in and warming up, albeit on the floor of the stage. Dorcas had a pained expression that likely had nothing to do with her stretches and more to do with her companion. 

Rab. Midlife crisis personified. His one dangly earring caught the light just as his rings, bracelets and necklaces did. With a groan, Rupert realized he was barefoot and he even caught a glimmer of his toe ring. Rab was as eccentric as he was talented. His vocal range was standard but strong, he danced like Fred Astaire and he acted professionally enough, at least on the stage. 

The man didn’t quite know how to separate his life drama from the stage. Rupert caught the gist of his story, another of his ex-wives tales. If it weren’t for his mother, Rab would’ve never gotten a call back. Checking his phone, he thanked all the gods of the arts that his mother hadn’t insisted on being his Stage Manager again. After last production…

A hand slapped his shoulder and interrupted him before that memory could pop up. “We’re all taking turns with Barabbas, don’t worry. Although he seems better behaved around Amir,” Percy said.

Shaking his head, Rupert looked toward Amir. The Choreography Director waved at him, and he waved back, heart fluttering more than a little. “Yeah probably because Amir’s threatened to feed him his jewelry if he didn’t reign in his...antics.”

“Ah yes. Well. Too bad the acting pool around here is so shallow,” Percy noted. “Too close to New York, I guess.”

“Yep. So we get the babies and the burnouts,” Amir said as he approached. “Amazed we managed to fill out a cast for Pirates of Penzance.”

“But like, wow! This is gonna be so cool. Can’t wait til our next production meeting because I have sooo many ideas!” Cecily said, practically vibrating with energy. 

As the remaining cast members came in, Rupert kept track of roll and checked back on his conflicts list. His second rehearsal and everyone was accounted for. Things were already better than…

“Rupert, you’re wearing a lot of that cologne I got you,” Amir said right by his ear. Rupert flinched and blushed at how close the other man was. 

“Can we talk about this later?” Rupert asked. 

“No need. You’ll take a shower after rehearsal even if I have to drag you in with my bare hands,” Amir threatened. 

“I’ll do it! No need to drag me with your bare...anything!” Rupert replied, remarkably blushing deeper. Clearing his throat, he quickly called the rehearsal to a start. 

Amir worked the actors over the choreography for the first number. Rab worked up a sweat as the Pirate King, and even managed to keep his interjections to a minimum. Rupert noted with regret that he’d have to compliment Rab on some of his ad-libs. At least the old man had energy. Some of his younger cast looked ready to drop. 

And drop they did by the end of the choreography session. Amir released them for the day and looked over to Rupert meaningfully. Hands up, Rupert headed to his locker. 

With all the money his mother spent building this space, the showers were one amenity that really sold him on staying around. The hot water in his apartment took forever, but here it was always ready. Pirates poured in around him, laughing and stripping off. They blew out as easily as they blew in, leaving Rupert in his stall. 

“You drank too much last night, didn’t you?” Amir asked, his voice emanating from the next stall over. 

“I did. Yes, before you say it, you were right. Happy?” Rupert asked. 

“I’d be happier if I knew you would take something for it, but I’m not gonna fight with you right now,” Amir said. 

Sighing, Rupert let the water pour over his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“So how was rehearsal from your point of view?” Amir asked. 

Rupert laughed. “I wasn’t looking at your butt the entire time.” They laughed together before Rupert continued. “I hate that I can’t find more things to hate about Rab.”

“You just don’t like him because he’s excessive. And your mother likes him,” Amir said. 

“My mother likes you!” Rupert countered. 

Amir snorted, “But I’m not excessive!”

“Should I call a pirate back in here to answer that?” Rupert asked. 

For a bit, there was just the sound of water running. Finally, Amir turned his shower off. “Give Barabbas a second chance. Or hundredth. He’s reining it way back since Guys and Dolls.”

Rupert turned his off as well, mindful to not use up too much water and upset his mother. “Fine.” 

As they got dried and dressed, Rupert thought he caught Amir staring. They’d been in a few plays together. The relationship was always professional. There was a certain friendly element. But there seemed to be an unspoken rule between them. 

Amir seemed intent on breaking that rule. “Hey, do you wanna grab dinner?”

Pulling his shirt on, Rupert glanced at Amir. He sat with an air of confidence that was incredibly attractive. And also shirtless. That helped. “Just us?”

It had never been just them. There was always Joan or Cecily. Or Joan and Cecily. “Just us,” Amir replied. “I have a friend downtown who keeps bugging me to come see his restaurant.”

“What about your cat?” Rupert asked. 

“Porridge has a timed feeder. And yes, before you say it, you were right,” Amir said, laughing. 

“That sounds amazing. What’s the place called?” Rupert asked. 

Amir made a face. “Get this. It’s called ‘The Garden of Delights!’”

In his room on his bed in the Castle of the Heartland, Rupert sat straight up, knocking his treat tray to the ground with a raucous clatter. The sound spooked Fitzroy, who barked until Porridge woke up and made worried noises. Amir poked his head in at the sight of his sweaty fellow prince, his spooked dog and his worried dragon. 

“Nightmare?” Amir asked. 

“That was so strange,” Rupert said with a nod.


	5. Daze of Future Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert seems to be seeking an old high, which leads him to a new low.

“And you were there! And you were there!” Rupert said, pointing at two of his breakfast companions. Joan and Cecily laughed, taking his weird dream in stride. 

Amir reached out and held his hand, his expression going for sympathetic, but ruined by the smile he couldn’t quite quell. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to direct any plays with a jewel encrusted Barabbas the Great!”

The trio lit up in laughter again. In spite of himself, Rupert laughed too. “Okay, okay. Let’s change the subject. Talking about the Garden of Delights, do you think those mushrooms were curse-created?”

“The ones that you fell in that made you...open to suggestions? Maybe. You’d have to find a pit in the forest though. Most land I’ve seen is wholly un-hole-y,” Amir said, to the groans of all those present. 

“But wait, like, wouldn’t it have gone away? That same home had that like, plant goddess thingy, didn’t it?” Cecily asked. 

Rupert and Amir nodded in unison. “Although she wasn’t a goddess. Her vines were really easy to cut.”

“But there are plenty of other types of mushrooms in the forest. Some of them are even edible,” Joan pointed out. “So why would you want ones that smell bad, make sticky goo, and then get you intoxicated?”

“Rupert! You’re not trying to get high?” Cecily exclaimed. 

Rupert’s eyes opened wide. “No! Keep your voice down! I’m not trying to get high. Well, probably.”

His three companions turned to look at him with varying degrees of concern. 

“Let me explain,” Rupert said, holding up his hands. “I’m just curious if the mushrooms smell the same to everyone who smells it or if they produce a unique smell per person.”

“So you want to hunt through the forest to smell a mushroom?” Joan asked, hands up.

“No,” Rupert replied. “I wanna hunt through the forest to have you guys smell a mushroom.”

“What?” The other three asked. 

“No way,” Joan said.

“I’m out,” Cecily agreed. 

Rupert looked to Amir, who sighed. “Fine. Can’t have you going off by yourself. But we’re only going for a few hours.” Porridge trotted up and head-butted Amir’s hand until the prince gave in and scratched his head. “You wanna come too, Porridge?”

As they mounted up, Amir gave him a look. “I know this is probably the stupidest things I’ve ever asked you to do…”

“There’s a competition with a lot of contestants,” Amir remarked with half closed eyes. Porridge made a noise that sounded like dragon laughter. Not for the first time, Rupert wondered how much he understood. 

“...but! I had to come up with some reason to get us out of the castle. And I had to make the errand so strange no one but you would do it,” Rupert said. At Amir’s grunt, Rupert explained. “There’s fresh snow in the clearing about an hour’s ride away. I could see it from the top of the tower.”

“You told our guards and friends that we were going smelly mushroom hunting so they wouldn’t come play in the snow with you?” Amir asked. 

“Well when you put it like that, I’d rather go smelly mushroom hunting. C’mon! We haven’t had a lot of together time. Be a little selfish with me!” Rupert said, nudging Euripides forward. Porridge took to the air, both Princes gazed after him. 

Nudging Tansar forward, Amir rode alongside Rupert. “Being a little selfish got you that dream last night.”

Rupert leaned over and tapped Amir’s shoulder. “I shared!”

Amir laughed and tapped him back. “After I stole them from you!”

“What’s stealing but sharing without asking? And haven’t we gone past words at this point in our relationship?” Rupert asked, smiling. 

“Wow. You’re terrible,” Amir said, laughing. They exited the small town just outside the castle walls and headed off at a brisk pace. 

When they arrived at the clearing, Amir started unpacking their lunch. Porridge cleared a spot on the ground so they wouldn’t be sitting in snow. Rupert lent a hand with spreading the picnic blanket. The snow was beautiful and both were glad to be dressed warmly. As they ate, Rupert practically bounced with excitement. 

“Okay, Rupert. What first?” Amir asked, putting away the picnic as Rupert darted off. His answer was a snowball to the face. 

Amir chased after him, scooping snow on the way. They traded shots at each other until, without warning, Rupert disappeared into a deep drift of snow. 

Amir had flashbacks to the quicksand and quickly fell to his knees to dig Rupert out. Porridge swooped down to lend his claws to the effort and they got to Rupert hands quickly. Yanking him out, Amir’s nose was hit with a foul stench. Like rotting meat. Even Porridge made gagging noises. 

“Ugh. I have snow and slime literally everywhere,” Rupert said as he sat next to the surprise hole. “I guess those mushrooms weren’t curse related.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the smell. Actually, now that I’m smelling you. It’s getting better. Like, jasmine, sandalwood and cinnamon. And apples, fresh ones.” Amir snuggled closer to Rupert. 

“Uh, Amir, focus! The mushrooms have gotten to you. Why haven’t I—“ Rupert was cut off by a particularly painful sneeze. The snow around his nose had been blocking his nostrils. Taking in a few experimental breaths, he groaned as the tainted meat stink changed like it had before. “Oh boy.”

Porridge jumped onto his shoulders and hugged his neck. Rupert looked up and sighed. It was gonna be a long day.


	6. Yule Never Believe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating a good tradition with an even greater magic beyond it. Amir starts to believe in unbelievable things while Rupert starts really believing one incredible thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For #RumirWeek Day 6: Magic

Traditions are funny, finicky things. You do something one year, the people around you seem to enjoy and next thing you know, everyone’s doing it. Sometimes these traditions aren’t so great. The wrong kind of traditions keep women from becoming knights. But the right kind? Those can be downright…”

“Magical. You expect me to believe that log right there, the one we randomly pulled out of the forest after our little mushroom trip, is magical?” Amir said, arms folded and eyebrows raised. The great hall of the Castle of the Heartland sported several fireplaces, but the one they stood by was the greatest. It was also closest to the royal table, naturally. Standing next to it was the traditional Yule Log, awaiting the wishes of those in the heartland who would place their hands upon it. 

Rupert tried not to get distracted by the way Amir’s forehead wrinkled. He glanced at the log and then back at Amir. “It’s not the log! It’s the wishes and hopes that people put inside it when they touch it and concentrate. Then those get set on fire…”

“A brilliant idea, let’s set our hopes on fire,” Amir remarked. He started walking towards the table and the set off snacks Labneh left for them. He made a mental note to chastise Labneh for including mushrooms in this snack. If he never saw another mushroom again it would be too soon.

Rupert ignored him. “And set free into the air so that they can come true! It’s all about sending that energy out into the world so that it can return to you!” He crossed over and picked up one of the mushrooms, laughed, and then ate it. 

“You’re not kissing me with that mushroom breath,” Amir warned.

“Well, if that’s my price then I’ll have to make it worth it,” Rupert said as he grabbed a few more mushrooms. Amir turned away, his nose scrunched up and eyes narrowed. 

Rupert turned back to the log. “This is probably the first time in ages that I have something less selfish in mind for my wish.” Closing his eyes, he placed his hand on the log.

Amir turned around to say something, but the words died in his throat. The look of peace on Rupert’s face was almost as good and precious as when he was asleep, Amir decided. Whatever this log could actually do, what was important was the way Rupert felt. Returning to the log, Amir laid his hand over Rupert’s.

Rupert’s eyes opened and he moved his hand to be on top of Amir’s. “No, you have to touch the log with your whole hand.”

“This thing has a lot of rules for something that used to have a squirrel’s nest in it,” Amir said, but he let out a breath and closed his eyes. Making his wish, Amir turned to Rupert, he still held Amir’s hand down on the log. “Uh, I’m done.”

“Oh, okay. Cool,” Rupert said, reddening up a bit before letting go of Amir’s hand. 

“So what did you wish for?” Amir asked.

“Can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” Rupert replied. With that, he turned on his heel and started to leave. Amir moved to leave with him. 

“So does that mean I can’t tell you mine?” Amir asked.

Rupert stopped dead in his tracks, swirled around and placed both hands on Amir’s mouth. “Amir. This is important to me. Do. Not. Tell. Me.”

Rolling his eyes, Amir nodded. Nodding in return, Rupert let go of Amir’s mouth. “That’s fine. Yule never believe me if I told you.” At Rupert’s nonplussed reaction, Amir raised his eyebrows. “Get it. Yule. You’ll.”

Rupert let out a low moan. “It’s worse when you explain it. Just. Maybe I should add a wish onto the log.”

“What wish?” Amir asked innocently.

Rupert shrugged. “That you’ll stop making bad puns.” 

Amir smiled devilishly. “Well now that will never come true!” 

Mouth agape, Rupert slapped his forehead. “Oh! You wicked prince! Oh, okay, now I’m mad at you.” Turning around again, Rupert took off at a faster walk than before.

Laughing, Amir rubbed an eye before giving chase. “Hey, wait! Rupert, Rupert I’m sorry!”

***

Reconciled back in their suite, Amir sat at the headboard of the bed with Rupert’s head in his lap. He slowly brushed Rupert’s hair, grown longer thanks to another Western tradition about cutting hair in winter. It almost was at his shoulders, but tended to do whatever it wanted. Which meant growing into tangles that even a spider’s web would envy. With a sigh, he wondered if this would be part of their routine every night. 

“What are you thinking about?” Rupert asked, eyes still closed. 

Amir set the brush down and let his fingers flow through Rupert’s soft hair. “I was thinking I wouldn’t mind doing this every night. I love every minute we get together. Even when the day is long and boring. Which, by the way, it hasn’t been. Not a day in the last week or so. Maybe it’s just the magic of the season.”

Rupert reached up and took hold of one of Amir’s hands. Holding it against his chest, Rupert could feel his heart beating against his ribs to touch Amir. As Amir’s other hand came to rest on his cheek, Rupert knew Amir could feel his heartbeat. “Here’s real magic, Rupert,” Amir said quietly.

He felt hot tears spring to his eyes. Those tender words spoke volumes that he could scarcely believe but at the same time didn’t dare to doubt. Before he could stop it, a tear rolled into Amir’s hand. “Are you okay, Ru?”

Rupert’s breath came in shudders, but he managed to squeak out. “I...love you so much.”

Leaning down, Amir set his lips against Rupert’s so gently that Rupert almost cried harder. A sudden possessive urge struck him and he reached up to hold Amir’s face as he pressed up into the kiss. The angle and position was awkward to maintain, so Rupert fell back down into Amir’s lap. “Everything you do is magic to me, Amir. That someone so magical loves me…”

Amir interrupted him with a kiss. “It’s no less than you deserve and I’ll show it to you every day if I have to. A pretty amazing prince is in love with me, too.”

“Really, well I’ll just have to knock out my competition, then,” Rupert said, smiling.

“You’re such a dork,” Amir said, laughing.

“A pretty amazing dork,” Rupert agreed.


	7. The Best Things In Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the day before the joint holiday and the princes are sure to be busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For #RumirWeek Day 7: Free

It usually took Rupert’s internal clock a while to start after waking up. Amir certainly gave him enough grief about being late every morning. Today was different. After Rupert’s eyes fluttered open, he could feel exactly how different. 

He woke up knowing exactly what time it must be, exactly where he must be, and exactly who was next to him on the bed. It was pre-dawn, he was in Amir’s room and of course, Amir was next to him. Their hands were entwined, but they were wrapped in different blankets. Rupert squeezed Amir’s hand, convincing himself it was real. The act had the side effect of causing Amir to stir. 

Rupert’s heart flew into his throat as Amir’s eyes opened, then shot over to gaze directly into his eyes. “You stayed all night?” Amir asked, his voice deeper than normal. 

He tried to speak but then had to clear his throat. “Uh, yeah. Is-is that okay?”

Amir squeezed his hand twice. “As long as you’re okay.”

Rupert smiled. “I guess I was just really tired.”

Nodding, Amir looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “It’s been a rough week.”

Cuddling closer, Rupert nestled his head into Amir’s shoulder. “You can say that again.”

Underneath him, he could feel Amir tense, then slowly relax. Rupert scooted back. “Sorry, too close?”

“No! Well yes. But kind of,” Amir scratched his head for a moment. 

Rupert scoffed. “Just go ahead and say it.”

“Your breath smells like Fitzroy’s,” Amir said bluntly.

“Well, yours doesn’t exactly smell like a bowl full of jasmine either.” Flipping the covers off, Rupert cursed himself for not bringing his slippers into Amir’s room. As his feet touched the bare stone, he hissed. “Remind me to have someone bring you a rug.”

Amir chuckled. “Use my slippers, you big baby.”

Ruffling his own hair, Rupert turned a sour expression on his fellow prince. “I am not a big baby.”

“Yeah, you’re my big baby,” Amir said, turning on his side. 

“Aren’t you getting up?” Rupert asked as he headed to the bathroom. 

“Too early. Tomorrow’s a holiday, so they’ll either be nothing to do or too much to do. See if our mothers don’t make us run around like our tails are on fire,” Amir snuggled deeper into his blankets and Rupert huffed. 

Crossing his arms, Rupert fixed a glare at the bundle of blankets his fiancé was buried in. “If you wanted me out of your bed, you didn’t have to insult me!”

Moaning, Amir turned back over and sat up. “You got me. I’m a mean, mean man who kicked my future husband out of my bed for bad breath,” he admitted, in a deadpan tone. 

Rupert closed the distance between them and kissed Amir’s cheek. “Well, at least you admitted it.”

Amir kisses Rupert’s cheek in return. “At least we should make sure we brush our teeth before falling asleep together.”

Rearing back, Rupert clutched his nose and sputtered. “Oh! My breath might be as bad as Fitzroy’s but you have totally got dragon breath! What did you even eat last night? A whole bottle of hot sauce?”

“No, just my mom’s chili,” Amir said, nonplussed. 

Rupert gesticulates broadly. “How is that different from what I said? You Easterners need to lay off the peppers.”

Amir snorted and wrapped himself back up. “You Westerners need to stop babying your poor little mouths.”

Halfway to the shared bathroom, Rupert turned around. “Is that why we didn’t share a blanket? Because you ate chili last night?”

“All I’m saying is that I’m very warm right now,” Amir said, his voice muffled by blankets. 

“Eww!”

***

As it turned out, their mothers had plenty for them to do. The positive was that at least their duties would be carried out together. In their capacity as future rulers, they toured the castle and the village just outside the gates. There were contests to judge, dances to observe and gifts to give. Most citizens in the village were connected to the construction of the castle, so there was a great sense of community in the Heartland. 

Upon their return, the guards passed along a message from the queens. Suppressing a collective groan, they trudged up to the ballroom and arrived at another party. This one was more intimate, at least. Joan and Cecily noticed them immediately and had cups of warm cider in their hands before they could take their cloaks off. Chamberlain beckoned them to the royal table, where a merry fire was roaring. Atossa and Lavinia looked to be several drinks in and could be heard discussing the merits of various fabrics and their applications. 

“No nobles? No guild leaders or tradesmen or even musicians? Mother, this must be the smallest party you’ve ever put together!” Rupert said, expertly cutting his mother off mid-harangue. Atossa looked about ready to deck his mother if she so much as whispered the words ’thread count.’”

“Well, strictly speaking not true. There was one year that Lord Chamberlain had a birthday and wouldn’t celebrate it without inviting his...special friend at the time,” Lavinia began, setting off a monologue that only made Amir and Rupert cringe slightly. 

Finally, Lord Chamberlain spoke up, his voice barely audible as Lavinia drew a breath. “Barabbas wouldn’t have written that play, you know, except for all the catty barbs you two said to each other that night. And then that crowd wouldn’t have gotten killed.”

Rupert and Amir looked at each other. Then they looked at Joan and Cecily, who seemed overly curious about the stemware. Finally, Rupert shrugged and turned back to Amir. “We don’t have time to unpack all of that baggage.”

“Speaking of unpacking? Shall we start sharing presents? One each?” Amir asked. 

“Sounds better than discussing the woes and whoa’s of Chamberlain’s love life. No offense, sir,” Cecily said.

Chamberlain waved a wrinkled hand. “I’ve heard worse assessments of my sordid sorties with sort of sultry studs.”

Rupert turned to Amir. “How much time have you been spending with Lord Chamberlain?”

Amir blinked. “Too much apparently.”

Joan quickly jumped up and retrieved the one gift for each of them. Atossa and Lavinia’s gifts were from each other. Joan and Cecily’s gifts were from each other and Rupert and Amir’s gifts were from Lord Chamberlain, whose gift to be opened was from Labneh the Royal Baker. 

“I must remember to write a thank you card for Labneh’s...what is this?” Chamberlain asked. 

“Baklava. And I’m jealous,” Rupert said. 

Amir cast his eyes skyward. “You had a whole tray not but a few days ago!”

Rupert shrugged. “But that was a few days ago!”

Lavinia and Atossa opened theirs together. Lavinia’s eyebrows rose as she looked at a mystifyingly fragrant leather-bound book. Looking at the spine, Lavinia remarked, “Eastern Horticulture?”

Atossa pulled the second wrapped box out of the first and groaned. “Well, I know you like flowers. There are a few varieties pressed in those pages. And enough seeds to grow some in the greenhouse when the glass is finished. Also, how many layers are there?”

Lavinia shrugged. “I only told them to do as many as possible.”

As Atossa scowled, Joan and Cecily opened their gifts from each other. “Oh...my...gawd! I can’t believe you found those Eastern boots I liked!” The boots she withdrew were a light tan suede lined with white fur. 

“I bought them that last trip we took to Atossa’s castle,” Joan explained as she carefully took the wrapping paper apart. 

“You know you can just tear into that, right? Like, you’re making that way harder than it needs to be,” Cecily asked, gesturing to her pile of torn wrapping paper. 

“Oh hush! How did you get these Eastern gauntlets! That armorer wouldn’t part with them for all the gold in the West!” Joan exclaimed. 

Rupert cleared his throat. “Uh, she had me buy them.”

Joan’s eyes widened. “Tell me you didn’t spend all…”

Rupert shook his head. “No, turns out the problem was he wouldn’t sell anything to a woman. Which...I remember now I wasn’t supposed to tell you,” Rupert withered at the glares Joan and Cecily gave him. 

Taking a long look at the gauntlets, Joan smiled. “I’m getting my name engraved on the fingers. And I’m going to tell everyone where I got these. If he doesn’t want to do business with women, he’ll have to turn away a lot of potential customers. See if that doesn’t change his mind. And then I’ll have these replicated here for all my lady knights. I know just the blacksmith looking to expand her horizons.”

Cecily nodded with a grin. “How much time have you spent with me?”

Joan blinked. “Apparently, too much.”

“What is with your family and books?” Rupert asked as he pulled his fancifully embroidered tome from its box. 

“It’s all the Eastern fairy tales. Or, well, at least most of them,” Amir explained. “With lots of illustrations, I must add. Although they got dragons a little wrong, I must say.” Rupert opened and flipped through a few pages until he saw an eastern-style dragon. 

“It’s like Porridge crossed with a catfish and a ferret,” Rupert observed. 

Before Amir could finish with his box, Atossa exclaimed at the other end of the table. Surrounded by a small mountain of wrapping paper and increasingly smaller boxes, Atossa held the final box and the thing inside. “My grandmother’s necklace!”

All eyes turned to Lavinia. “I found that in the Royal Vault amongst several of my husband’s trophies. I...was waiting for the right time to return it.”

Atossa’s eyes were brimming with tears. The Eastern Queen was too emotional to even begin to reply. So Lavinia explained. “One of the many provocations the former kings used was the loss of that necklace during our last summit. The Eastern king used it as justification to skip dinner on the second night. As I recall, queenie here was upset about it for the rest of the summit.”

“I was so mad for years about it. This necklace means a great deal to Lavinia. Thank you for finally returning it,” Atossa said, standing to embrace the western queen. 

Shaking his head, Rupert turned to Amir. “Well my gift isn’t going to beat that!”

“Giving gifts isn’t about winning,” Lavinia chided. “Of course if it was I’d have won. Open your gift Amir!”

Amir turned to Rupert. “There aren’t more of those mushrooms in here, right? Because I really don’t want to see all of us high on the fumes.”

“Amir I would never want to get high with my mother,” Rupert said flatly. 

“I... think I’m okay with that,” Lavinia said. 

“It’s. A painting of a waterfall.” Amir held up the work of art. “Rupert did you…?”

“Painted our waterfall from memory? Yes. Yes I did. Also thanks for all those boring painting lessons mom,” Rupert said, casting his eyes over at his mother. 

Lavinia pretended not to gloat by messing with her hair. “Oh, you’re welcome. I won’t even say ‘I told you so.’”

Rupert narrowed his eyes. “I think you just did anyway.”

Suddenly he found himself wrapped in Amir’s arms, Amir’s lips pressed firmly against his. When they parted, Amir smiled. “I didn’t know you could paint.”

“Well, you learn things when you get grounded as often as I did,” Rupert admitted. “But don’t ask me to do people. I can never get the hands right.”

With the last present opened, the royal friends and family retired for the night. In their suite, Rupert set his fairy tale book on his bedside table as Amir set the painting leaning against the wall where he wanted it hung. They met in the bathroom, giggling and playing around as they brushed their teeth. 

“Yours, mine or separate?” Amir asked as they finished. 

“Mine. I’ll read you a bedtime story,” Rupert offered as he took Amir’s hand. 

“Should I grab a blanket?” Amir asked.

Rupert stopped and turned around. “Only if you want to. Otherwise, I’ll keep you warm.” Leaning in, Rupert drew Amir into a lingering kiss that definitely warmed them both.


End file.
